


Come Hear the Music Play

by lovetheblazer



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Broadway, Doctor!Blaine, Doctor/Patient, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Klaine, M/M, cabaret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheblazer/pseuds/lovetheblazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Advent Prompt #10: You’re my patient and I’m trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you but it’s hard to do that when you’re flirting with me. Seriously dude I’m not gonna be able to diagnose you as easily when you’re telling me how my lab coat complements my eyes. Doctor!Blaine AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Hear the Music Play

**Author's Note:**

> Day 10 of the Advent Challenge I'm doing daily through Christmas Eve. Prompts have been anonymously submitted by my followers.

“Your next patient is all ready to go in treatment room five,” Kitty announces, passing a clipboard with the patient triage info to Doctor Anderson.

“Great, thanks,” Blaine murmurs as he quickly scans the symptoms checklist.

“He's really cute, too, but I didn't put that on the paperwork,” Kitty adds with a knowing wink.

Blaine looks up from the clipboard, shooting her a loaded glare. “Kitty, we've been through this. I'm not interested in being set up and even if I was, I can't date patients. It's against the rules,” he whispers.

“It wouldn't kill you to get out there. It's been what, six months since your last blind date?”

It's actually been nine months, but Blaine doesn't correct her. The last thing Kitty needs is more ammunition to use against him in her search to find him a husband. “Yeah, something like that,” he says instead, shrugging.

“Thought so,” she trills. “Look, I'm just saying – you're Blaine Anderson, Vocal Specialist to the Stars. You're basically one step away from being Doctor McDreamy on Grey's Anatomy. You should totally take advantage of the status. Otherwise what was the point of toiling away in medical school and residencies for all those years?”

“Helping people?” Blaine shoots back, as if the answer should be obvious.

“ _Boring_. I mean, yeah the noble thing is great and all, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy some of the other perks, too,” Kitty sighs, as if Blaine's a hopeless spinster even though he's only twenty-nine years old. “Anyways, I'm going to triage the last two patients in the waiting room and then I'll probably take my lunch break, okay? Text me if you want me to bring you back something to eat.”

“Thanks, Kitty. Don't know what I would do without you,” Blaine replies gratefully. It's true. Nagging questions about his love life aside, she's absolutely the best nurse he's ever worked with. Plus, her social media expertise has been invaluable in getting his practice up and running and keeping a steady stream of patient referrals coming in. As much as the vocal specialist to the stars title sometimes grates on Blaine, it's nice to get to work with a variety of creative artists in theater, music, and movies. None of that would have happened if Kitty hadn't come along when she did.

“You'd be hopeless without me, it's true,” Kitty chuckles. “Best not keep Hottie McHotterson waiting too long. He said something about needing to get back to Broadway rehearsals soon,” she nudges.

* * *

Blaine takes a deep breath before opening the door to treatment room five, curious to see what he'll find on the other side. For all Kitty's machinations, she does tend to have a pretty uncanny sense of his type.

As it turns out, Kurt Hummel is  _exactly_  his type in more ways than one. He's tall and lean, dressed casually in black yoga pants and a cozy-looking green cashmere sweater. He's engrossed in his phone at first, but he looks up at the sound of the door swinging open. “Hi, Kurt? I'm Doctor Anderson, but most of my patients call me Blaine.”

Kurt looks him up and down carefully, eyes widening. “Oh,” he breathes.

It's a puzzling response to Blaine's greeting. He glances down at what he's wearing on instinct, checking his scrub top and lab coat for stains. “Is there something on my shirt?” he says, half to himself and half to Kurt, because he doesn't see anything wrong with it.

“No, uh, sorry,” Kurt manages in a hoarse voice. “It's just... you're a lot younger and cuter than I was expecting. I figured you'd be super old and crotchety?” He shrugs helplessly, blushing.

“Hey, you just met me. I could still be crotchety. Maybe I started early?” Blaine jokes.

“That would be a waste of your lovely smile,” Kurt remarks. Blaine finds himself grinning wider at the comment on instinct.  _Oh man, I'm in so much trouble_ , he thinks to himself. He has to wonder if Kitty somehow put Kurt up to this or if she talked him up during her pre-exam with Kurt. It seems unthinkable that a patient would start hitting on him the second he walked in the door otherwise.

Blaine glances down at his clipboard, needing the familiar routine to ground him. “So, Kurt, can you tell me a little bit about why you're here today?”

“Mainly because I sound like I've got a frog in my throat and our show opens on Broadway in five days,” Kurt explains, looking genuinely panicked. “One of the producers referred me to you. They said you were a miracle worker.”

“I don't know that I've got any miracles but I definitely have a few tricks up my sleeve. I'll do everything in my power to get you working again soon,” Blaine replies. “What's the show? How vocally demanding is your part?”

“I don't know how familiar you are with Broadway musicals, but it's a revival of Cabaret. ” Kurt croaks.

“Very familiar. I’m a lifelong theater fan, plus I did show choir and theater in high school, though that feels like a million years ago now. I know Cabaret well. What's your role? Are you in the chorus?”

“Nope,” Kurt smirks, “I'm the Emcee. So yeah, a very vocally demanding role and physically demanding too, I'm afraid.”

“Oh wow, I guess congratulations are in order, in that case. I didn't realize we had a new Broadway star in our midst! But you said you open in what... five days?” he checks.

“Yes, so please tell me you can fix me and fast? I can't send my understudy onstage for opening night. That would be a disaster,” Kurt murmurs.

“Of course, that would be less than ideal,” Blaine agrees, already mentally running through the various treatments and tests he'll need to order if Kurt's to have any hope of singing again by Saturday night.

“You know those shots they give football players in their knees or ankles where it just completely numbs everything? And then they go out and play the second half on a torn tendon or broken bone and don't even feel a thing? Do they make those, but for your vocal cords?” Kurt rasps out.

Blaine chuckles. “I'm afraid not, but even if they did, I wouldn't recommend it. Vocal cords are very delicate things. If you overstrain them, they can take months to recuperate,” he patiently explains.

“Oh god, I don't  _have_  months,” Kurt practically wails.

“Hey hey, that was just a hypothetical,” Blaine soothes, squeezing Kurt's shoulder. “I can already tell you now that you're going to have to go on complete vocal rest for the next few days until whatever meds I give you kick in, though. So, just take some deep breaths and let me do my exam and we'll go from there, okay?”

Kurt makes a show of inhaling and exhaling slowly. “That's better,” Blaine encourages. “When did you start having issues with your throat?” he asks, reaching out and feeling the lymph nodes in Kurt's neck while they talk.

“A couple of days ago, so either late Friday night or Saturday morning, I think. Somewhere in there.”

“And is your throat sore? In addition to the hoarseness?” Blaine checks.

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs.

“Any coughing?”

“Not really.”

“Sinus drainage?” Blaine continues while he grabs the lighted otoscope and quickly checks Kurt's ears.

“A little.”

“Fever?”

“No.”

“And you don’t smoke, right? Or drink alcohol excessively?” Blaine inquires.

“Of course not. My voice and lungs are my livelihood, after all. I’ve got to protect my investments,” Kurt explains.

“Okay, let's look at your throat now,” Blaine prompts, tilting Kurt's chin to get the proper angle so he can visualize his tonsils and pharynx.

“Hmm,” Blaine murmurs once he's done examining Kurt’s throat.

“Is it really bad?” Kurt gasps, eyes wide and worried.

“No, I've seen much worse,” Blaine promises, patting Kurt's knee reassuringly. “The back of your throat looks a little red and irritated, but I don't see any sign of tonsillitis which is good. We should also do a strep test just to be safe, but I don't think that's the issue since you aren't running a fever.”

“So, what does that leave me with?”

“I think what you probably have is just plain old viral laryngitis,” Blaine reports. “The good news is that it responds well to steroids typically.”

“I thought you said the football injection thing was just a myth. Isn't that what the players shoot up with: steroids?” Kurt teases.

“Fair point, but those are a different kind of steroids you’re thinking of,” Blaine laughs. “Theoretically, these shouldn't make you Hulk out in the next week.”

“Well, that's a relief because my costumes are very... fitted,” Kurt murmurs throatily, running his hand down his chest as if in demonstration. Blaine's not entirely sure if it's an unconscious gesture or Kurt's  _trying_  to get a rise out of him, but whatever the case, it's highly distracting.

He shakes his head slightly, trying to erase the mental image and get back to a more professional demeanor. “I'm going to order a couple of tests to be safe but assuming everything comes back negative, I'll have Kitty give you a couple injections – one of steroids and another of an antibiotic just to cover our bases in case the infection you have is bacterial instead of viral. Then, I'll give you some additional medications for symptom management and have you come back on Wednesday evening or Thursday morning to see if everything is improving as it should be. You'll need to be on total vocal rest until then,” Blaine lays out for Kurt.

“Two shots?” Kurt pouts. He grabs hold of Blaine's hand and requests, “Are you sure you can't give them to me yourself instead of having the nurse do it? I'm sure you'd be more gentle.”

Blaine tries really hard to ignore the way his whole arm tingles at Kurt's touch. “Kitty's an injection pro. You won't feel a thing, I promise,” he says instead.

He expects Kurt to say something witty in reply, but instead he just holds Blaine's gaze for an uncomfortably long time. Blaine can scarcely breathe as he stares back, cheeks flushed. “What?” he finally whispers when he can't stand the tension any longer.

“Your eyes...” Kurt hums. “That lab coat brings out the color in them.”

“But my lab coat is white,” Blaine protests weakly, eyes still locked with Kurt's. As he stares, Blaine notices how Kurt's green sweater brings out the turquoise flecks in his eyes.

“Your scrub top is green, though. It's all about the contrast between the green and white. It really brings out the hazel in your eyes,” Kurt murmurs, smiling softly. “You learn these things when you spend so much time in costume fittings.”

“I see,” Blaine nods. He finally tears his gaze away from Kurt and rubs at the side of his neck nervously. “Well, thank you for the compliment,” he breathes, still blushing furiously.

“My pleasure. Truly.”

Blaine is too flustered to respond to what Kurt’s said directly. “Okay, so I'm going to leave so I can put in these test orders and then Kitty will be in shortly to do the strep test and injections. I'll come back once everything is done to give you your prescriptions and go over all the instructions with you, alright?” Blaine rambles, staring at his clipboard as he tries to regain his composure.

“Swear you'll come back?” Kurt presses.

“I promise,” Blaine confirms, standing and starting to move towards the door.

“I'm going to hold you to that, Doctor Anderson,” Kurt says in a decidedly flirtatious lilt.

Blaine waves, probably a little awkwardly, and opens the door to exit the room before he can embarrass himself further. He closes it behind him and exhales a shaky breath as he fans his overheated face. When he looks up, Kitty is smirking at him. “Told you,” she stage whispers.

* * *

“Alright Kitty, since you’ve got everything covered, I think I'm going to head out for the night,” Blaine announces six hours later, walking up to the reception desk where she's currently organizing receipts and reviewing the schedule for tomorrow.

“Oh, before you do, I've got a little something for you,” she announces gleefully, retrieving a white envelope with Blaine's name handwritten on it.

“What is it?” he asks curiously.

“A certain handsome someone had it couriered over this afternoon,” Kitty says mysteriously, passing the envelope to Blaine. “Well, go on. Open it,” she encourages.

Blaine tears it open as commanded and pulls out a ticket. He squints to read the print:  _Cabaret, 7 PM, Orchestra Row A._

“Oh shit,” he curses under his breath as he makes the connection.

“Yep, it would seem your charming patient would  _really_  like to see you again. This Saturday night, to be precise,” Kitty practically cheers, rubbing her hands together in excitement. “And in case you can't tell, those are front row center seats. Normally a ticket like that would set you back several hundred dollars, possibly even more than that since it's for opening night.”

“That's...  _wow_ ,” Blaine manages, momentarily speechless.

“You're going to go, right? Please tell me you're going to go,” Kitty all but begs.

Blaine considers feigning indecision, but in his mind, the answer is perfectly clear. “Yeah, I'm going to go,” he finally admits.

“God bless America. It’s about fucking time.” Kitty throws her hands up in the air in celebration. “Kurt sent one more thing, by the way. I think in case you needed more convincing?”

“Oh?” Blaine hums. It's sort of adorable that Kurt would think he might need convincing. He’d just naturally assumed it was clear all over his face how hopelessly flummoxed and smitten by Kurt he was throughout their encounter.

Kitty slides open her desk drawer again, retrieving a glossy 8x12 poster for Cabaret. On it front and center is Kurt in costume as the Emcee. He's wearing tight black pants with suspenders attached and he's shirtless underneath them, showing off a muscular chest and impressively sculpted abs. Blaine stares at the picture for several seconds, his mouth going dry at how good Kurt looks. “ _God_. I am so hopelessly screwed,” he sighs when he finally remembers how to speak and breathe again.

Kitty laughs long and hard at Blaine’s remark. “Not yet, but hopefully you will be Saturday night after the show!”

**Author's Note:**

> [Share fic on Tumblr](http://lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/post/134967984885/come-hear-the-music-play)
> 
> Read Previous Advent Fics on: [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Advent_Fics_by_lovetheblazer) or [Tumblr](http://lovetheblazer.tumblr.com/tagged/advent-fics-by-lovetheblazer)


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